The Fugitive Bride
by Project CluClu
Summary: Code Geass AU - set in the Wild West. C.C. wants nothing to do with the man her father has chosen for her to marry, and so, with little other choice, runs away - straight into the arms of the Wild West's most notorious, bloodthirsty outlaw.
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

The young woman blinked up at the bright stars twinkling in the sky. They seemed to wink down at her as if they were her co-conspirators. She shifted over onto her side; she refused to allow even the heavens to lie to her. Her only family already had; who was to say that the heavens wouldn't? Everyone knew how much they enjoyed their cruel games as they gazed down like the gods and kings they thought themselves to be.

Half-heartedly, she tried to find the shape of her head in the lump of cloth that was supposed to serve as her pillow. Pulling her sugan up to her chin, she clasped her hands together – Mother Nature was as sly as they came; the nights were as cold as the days were sweltering – and closed her eyes to fall asleep as she should, considering the time they would have to be up and about, when she noticed the lone silhouette of a man.

He was completely still, save the lonely desert wind ruffling his hair. He seemed to be praying, though she seriously doubted it. Outlaws didn't pray. Isolation was a two-way street; you had to abandon and be abandoned in order to truly be alone. And more than anything, C.C. knew that there was no place in God's great design for thieves and murderers such as themselves. She had at least learned that much in the first nineteen years of her life.

She considered getting up and investigating but decided against it. He was obviously in deep reflection. To interrupt him would only make her current situation more precarious. Not to mention the fact that it would only fan the scandal until the embers burst into life and burn her. Besides, she wasn't quite sure what to say to him. What did one say to an outlaw pondering over some deep, metaphysical question? What comfort could she offer him when there was so little she could provide for herself?

With a sigh, she turned back onto her back. She was tired. The journey had been rough on her body, having been unaccustomed to such terrible, inconsiderate conditions, and with the combination of her new company and the fact that she had now truly crossed the line of no return, the last thing she wanted was to be kept up all night by some stupid little riddle she had had the misfortune to stumble upon. She was young, but more importantly, she was a woman. And being a woman in this day and age meant the world had been designed of men, by men, for men. There was little forgiveness to be found among these particular group of degenerates, and what little grace she would find would be sparse indeed. It'd be best if she left him to his devices. What he did in the evenings was none of her concern, just as what she did in her free time was none of his.

Even so, as she drifted off to sleep, finally persuaded by the toil and troubles of sitting astride a horse all-day long, she couldn't help but wonder how a simple outline could seem so melancholy, forlorn, and… Well… So _vulnerable._

It was highly unbecoming of the Black Prince to emanate such an aura, she decided. Totally unlike his reputation to the highest degree, and _so_ unprofessional. You'd have thought that a man with an $8,000 bounty would be more intimidating. But then again… He was a rather curious man.

Wasn't he?


	2. Chapter 2

**ONE**

* * *

She looked out of the dirty window and into the barren streets of the small town. The only discernible motion was that of the dust blowing here and there, or the occasional hasty flutter of falling curtains as stupid children were hastily yanked from a quick, hopeful glimpse of the Black Prince. There was, after all, nothing quite like a wild, wide-eyed account of the bloodthirsty demon king to win the attention and admiration of schoolmates. And with so much temptation, who could possibly resist? Even among some of the more brash adults.

The thought made the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly; while it was (mildly) impressive to be at the epicenter of such awe, respect, and fear, the fact that this band of misfits she'd recklessly enlisted among had earned such a dark reputation escaped her. So far as she could see, they'd done little to earn such power. Their ride through a thin leg of desert had been completely and utterly mind-numbing, with no hint of the excitement that was said to snap at the heels of rogue men. Why, if it weren't for the previous evening's hunt with Rolo, she'd have openly mocked the next man, woman, or child who cowed at the mere shadow of the Black Prince. But the memory of even the youngest and weakest's mastery of his revolver was enough to silence even her derision - the glassy eyes of the bleeding grouse had seen to that.

Distastefully, C.C. appraised the glass of water sitting before her. Lukewarm at best, it tasted tinny, and so, though it was wasteful to, she chose not to drink it. Nor did she partake from one of the numerous, ominously colored bottles lining the shelves of the saloon. She had tasted one of its kind once and was not remembered fondly. It had left her with a foul taste in her mouth and was, by far, the worst she'd ever had the misfortune of tasting in all nineteen of her years. Never again would she drink from such a vile source ever again, she had vowed.

"Mind if I sit here?"

She looked up into the bright green eyes of the Prince's right-hand man. Shrugging, she turned away as soon as his smile widened out of gratitude. Taking the seat across from her, he slipped off his hat, revealing a mop of damp, brown curls, and began to fan himself.

"The heat gets worse by the day," he remarked with a gust of hot wind. She merely ignored him. It was hot, true, but in no way did that merit a response. Though they were allies now, she didn't particularly feel like walking through the motions of polite conversation with a man who had probably just climbed his way out of a whorehouse. She had had more than her fill of that in the company of polite society and then some. A criminal and a murderess she may be now, but in no way had she forgotten her upbringing. No, those moments of stifling oppression had been branded onto her head and heart as if she'd been mere cattle, and now that she'd stolen her freedom, she refused to go through another one of those ridiculous charades, society be damned.

"How are you adjusting so far?"

She chose to give him a dour stare, as if to silently question his insolence. But the man merely pressed on, asking her question after question about her well-being. Unable to discern if he was actually interested in knowing or simply obtuse (or worse yet, planned to use her words against her to prove the inherent delicacy of womenfolk), she sat with her lips sewn shut. His interrogation battering her, and the heat abusing her, she steeled herself against her mounting annoyance, willing herself to remain calm and detached, when she heard a voice she had heard so infrequently, she almost didn't recognize it.

"Gather the others."

"We have everything we need?"

"For the time being."

Standing up and plopping his hat back on his head, Suzaku purposefully left to carry out his prince's will. Remaining in her seat, C.C. stared straight ahead with as much impudence as she dared. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the dark figure moving about the empty room, gently nudging aside the stray chairs that had been quickly deserted by their previous occupants. He seemed to be looking around, studying the details of the "business," until his eyes settled on her. She could feel it, his eyes and how they drilled into her. Half wondering if he was angry for her lack of respect, she considered returning his stare, when the doors swung open again, and his eyes left her.

"How are the horses?"

"Well-rested," replied Rolo. Eager to please, he quickly added that they'd been fed and watered properly. Nodding, the Prince announced their immediate departure from the ramshackle town. Obediently, the others left to retrieve their horses, and for a moment, C.C. feared abandonment. Turning her head to look towards the door, she let slip her apprehension through a thin crack of her mask, only for it to be caught by the waiting Prince. Shutting her mouth promptly, she sat with her face hot from embarrassment. But he said nothing as he continued to stand with his back to the light, and soon, she found enough discipline to shelf her discomfort and take her place within the Black Prince's Court.


End file.
